


Could Be Fate

by orphan_account



Series: HSWC 2014 [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1686365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the HSWC prompt: "Remember when Dave was famous for making movies and was traveling the world, but kept seeing the same kid at every airport he went?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could Be Fate

It wasn't possible. 

Dave had been hopping from country to country for as long as he could remember, and he could swear that every airport he stopped at had the same kid- short, bed headed, angry expression and always draped in a huge grey sweater.

He was starting to wonder if he was being haunted, but the more likely explanation was teenage stalker. It'd happened before; nothing concerning but nonetheless prevalent in the life of a big-name director like himself.

Dave wasn't getting that vibe, though. The guy was almost always off to side, looking at his phone or eyeing the display boards. He'd purposefully bumped into him at the vending machine one time, just to be sure.

"Got the time?" Dave had asked, casually feeding a dollar into the machine.

"There are literally fifty thousand clocks in this room alone." The boy had replied with with a fierce glare. 

No wide-eyed disbelief or admiration like Dave had grown accustomed. He'd seen five star celebrities melt under his gaze, but this kid had looked at him like he'd just slapped his mother in front of him.

At that point Dave had shrugged and left with his cheap juice, bemused but deciding to leave the situation behind him. Sometimes weird coincidences just happened. 

And yet, a few months later, here he was again, the curiosity scratching at the corners of his mind. This just didn't make sense. 

Dave still had about an hour to board his flight to Milan, so it was either a few more rounds on Candy Crush or risk someone getting a pic of him chatting up a teenager. The latter sounded like an entertaining prospect, actually. 

The mysterious potential stalker was sitting by himself in the food court, tapping away on his laptop. Dave was starting to think that scowl was probably just his default expression. 

"I know it's a small world, but this is a bit ridiculous." 

The boy looked up from his computer and wrinkled his nose irritably. "The fuck are you talking about."

"You. Me. In every airport from here to Sydney. Some might call something like that fate, but-" 

"Are you calling me a stalker?" The kid practically bristled before Dave's eyes. "Your arrogance truly humbles me, Strider."

"So you know me."

"Not every person on the face of the planet swoons in the presence of an overrated Hollywood douchebag."

Dave raised his eyebrows at that one, because he absolutely was all of those things- ironically of course- with the biggest joke being that no one noticed or cared. They all thought that every absurd production was a 100% sincere and brilliant subversion of the film industry, or something like that. 

"And I'm not fucking stalking you either, don't flatter yourself." He said sharply. "My cousin heads your costume department, dumbass. Not everyone can squeeze into first class with you and your ego."

Huh. Dave knew that he technically traveled alongside vital members of the studio's production unit, but it hadn't really occurred to him that an angry looking teenager was somebody's tagalong. Maybe he just didn't spend enough time with the crew.

"Fair enough. So what's your name, kid?"

A look of uncertainty and stubbornness crossed his face, like he was only now realizing the potential ramifications of being a shit to the cash cow of his cousin's studio. 

"I'm not looking to get you in trouble sweetheart. Just curious."

"… It's Karkat."

Weird name for a weird kid, but it was cute in its own way. Suited him.

"And how old are you, Karkat?"

His face went from anxious to sour and unimpressed in a millisecond. 

"Underage."

"Uh huh." Dave surveyed him thoughtfully.

He'd been seeing this kid on and off forever, but something felt like he really knew him from somewhere. And yet, looking over the tan skin and deep russet eyes, also knew he didn't. Odd.

"Aren't you like thirty now?" Karkat said, posture easing with the banter.

"Twenty-five."

Karkat scoffed, turning back to his computer.

"Seventeen."

Older than expected, to be fair. Dang this kid was short.

"Pretty young to be running around the world like this. Interested in the movie business?"

"If you offer to film me like your french girls I'm leaving."

"Tempting, but I'd at least buy you a coffee first. And not the shitty airport quality either."

"I like writing." Karkat said, forcefully deflecting the conversation.

"What, like scripts?"

"Sometimes. Nothing like the slop you turn out."

"Oh really. Do tell."

"You wouldn't understand. It's romance mainly."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Dave let himself laugh out loud. 

"Is that right. And what does a seventeen year old who doesn't even go to school know about romance?"

Karkat glowered, arms crossed. "I get my education just fine, Strider. And I know a lot more than you'd think."

"Tell you what. Take this in the meantime." Dave said, scrawling his chum handle on a nearby napkin. "And when your birthday rolls by,"

He slid it across the table and reached for his own bag.

"prove it."

**Author's Note:**

> Omg I can feel myself getting lazier with every fill it's only the second week someone help me


End file.
